


It'll All Be Over Soon.

by thatkokichikinnie



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - No Killing Game (Dangan Ronpa), Alternate Universe - Non-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Angst, Angst and Tragedy, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt, Fluff and Angst, Gay Oma Kokichi, Heavy Angst, Human K1-B0 (Dangan Ronpa), Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Nonbinary K1-B0 (Dangan Ronpa), Oma Kokichi Being Oma Kokichi, Oma Kokichi Needs a Hug, Oma Kokichi-centric, Sad Oma Kokichi, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-24 20:02:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30077598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatkokichikinnie/pseuds/thatkokichikinnie
Summary: Ouma is fed up with everything. Through a failed suicide attempt, he tries to fix it with spending more time with his boyfriend, Kiibo. But it all gets fucked up in the end.((he/they pronouns for Kiibo! :D))TW! suicide, suicide attempts, self harm, and a graphic depiction of suicide.
Relationships: K1-B0/Oma Kokichi
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	It'll All Be Over Soon.

1 step... 2 steps... 3 steps... 4... Ouma was getting closer and closer to the edge of the bridge with raging water below that sealed his fate. He knew he wouldn't survive, and that was the point. He was the antagonist in his own story, and noone likes the antagonist. Not even they like themselves. That was true for Ouma, everyone hated him. And, he hated himself. Every mindless prank, joke, lie. Everything kept stacking up and up. So, he came to the bridge instead. The water would keep his secrets and mistakes. The river below was his safe space. And his final resting place.

Ouma said "Thank you" to the water for carrying the weight of his problems. For being there for him, and soonly holding his life. Ouma wasn't nervous, Ouma wasn't sad. He was happy he found somewhere safe, a place where someone trusted him and didn't judge, a safe space. As the water crashed into the sharp metal pointed upward to create a flowing waterfall, Ouma looked at the smoother part of the river. His hair blew into a mess as the wind started to swirl around him. All the attention was on him, all the bugs watched as Ouma stepped onto the concrete boarders blocking cars from driving over the edge.

Ouma closed his eyes, breathing calmly as he took his final step. He felt the wind go through his hair before a cold sensation filled his body. He couldn't move, he couldn't hear, and he definitely couldn't see. His body tried to squirm, only being thrown down onto a sharp, hard, and thin plate of metal. His arm flared up, instantly cooled by the water. He could still feel the pain of his wound. But he didn't care. In the matter of seconds, he lost consciousness. In his thoughts, he dreamt of being safe and proud near his classmates. Laughing, smiling, giggling, jokes, everything that wasn't the truth. Even in an unconscious state, he still used lies as a coping mechanism. Suiting for him, honestly.

Ouma's chest raised and gently sunk back in, the beeps of a monitor echoed through the mouse-quiet room. An oxygen mask covered his small, pale, and bony face. His heart beat was the only thing keeping the doctors on his case, he was a fighter. Fighting for life, fighting for the chance to breathe again, even if he didn't want that life to begin with. He was still fighting for it, fighting for each breath he took, fighting for every heartbeat. 

His heartbeat went up as he took a deep breath, opening his pain struck eyes. A doctor immediately rushed over to the lightheaded mess, calling over a few more nurses to help. They all tried to keep Ouma calm, assuming that he was panicking. Though his situation, Ouma stayed calm. In a daze. He wanted to scream, cry, say something. But his lungs killed the words. Ouma made a new friend that minute, an old friend who made a reappearance. Pain. 

Hours ticked by, all Ouma could do is watch the doctors panic as he went in and out of consciousness. He was struggling, at the end of the line. But his body kept fighting, even if his mind didn't want to. Everytime he was conscious, Ouma was blinded by the shining lights and in constant pain. His purple-ish hair seemed to be the only thing that calmed him, the dark blueish gray with vivid purple tips contrasted against the bright whites and grays that the hospital surrounded him with. He felt safe with the dark colors, he felt so captured by the bright light. Everything hurt. If he couldn't even kill himself without surviving, then he sure as hell is nothing but a weak, cowardly, villain. His views on himself lowered more and more, but he knew that he'd have to cover it back up once everything healed. Everything was going to heal, besides his doubts and struggles. Even "villains" have struggles. 

After days, weeks, months. Fuck Ouma didn't know, he wasn't keeping track. He was finally let go. He didn't expect a certain someone to meet him as soon as he opened the obvious door to make it out of the hell he was recovering in. The cold wind met with Ouma's pasty white skin with a shiver, the breeze went through his hair. It was calming, it was the same calming that the waves by the bridge gave off. It felt like... Home. 

Speaking of home, Ouma sighed as he took off-balance steps to the sidewalk, fully knowing that he'd have to go back to his cave. The cave of despair and gloomyness. As Ouma walked, he realized how much of a struggle it was to even breathe, he was scared to be alone. But being alone was his strong suit. 

1 step... 2 step... 3 step... 4 step... Ouma counted each dizzy step taken until he was home, which was reasonably close to the hospital. He took shaky steps up the stairway to hell, opening his front door seemed like a struggle. To an outsider, it just looked like a simple turn. To Ouma, everything was difficult. All energy his body had left seemed to dissapear as he stepped in. But his heart lifted as he was greeted with the calming sound of his cats meow. 

"Dice..? Oh baby... I'm so-.. sorry... I left you here alone... Didn't I?" Ouma sobbed, "Who fed you?" 

Dice rubbed against Ouma's leg, giving a purr as a response. Ouma's heart hurt as he pulled the cat into his arms. She was soft, but her fur felt a little wet. Ouma was obviously confused as he walked around, pushing the thought to the back of his mind. He was interrupted by a familiar face, Kiibo. His boyfriend. 

"K-... Kiibo..." Ouma choked out, his heart dropped to the bottom of his chest as he stepped closer. 

Kiibo was peacefully asleep in their shared bed, spooning a pillow as if it was Ouma, which only hurt more. Dice chirped as she squirmed out of Ouma's arms and onto to the bed, cuddling into Kiibo's loose arm. 

Ouma frowned, sniffling as he lazily crawled in bed, slowly replacing the pillow with his own body. Chest to chest with Kiibo. The overwhelming feeling of warmth broke his heart more than it's ever been before. He felt so... Guilty. So... Horrible. How dare he put Kiibo through the pain of being Ouma's partner. 

"Kii... Babe..." Ouma whispered.

Kiibo's nose scrunched up as he opened his eyes, they blinked a couple times before their vision unblurred. "K-kichi-" 

Ouma teared up, instantly burying his face into Kiibo's chest. "Kii.. K-kii.. I-I'm sorry..." 

Kiibo slightly laughed, he was always such an understanding person, Ouma never understood how they could stay so positive. "It's okay... Look at me, please?" 

Ouma complied, looking up to Kiibo's reassuring smile. "-hm?" 

"I'm here for you... You should know I'll never get mad at you..." Kiibo whispered.

Ouma fell quiet, only to hug Kiibo tighter. He felt so safe in Kiibo's arms, it's like every other problem went away. The only thing audible was Ouma's shakey breaths and Kiibo's soft humming. Kiibo's jeans rubbed against Ouma's leg a couple times, making him wince. But he didn't care, he felt safe. While his skin was covered in the littering marks of regret, tragedy, pity, and self-doubt. Kiibo seen everything else. They seen Ouma's beautiful blush, perfect little dimples, soft to the touch pale skin, perfectly round beauty marks. Downright gorgeous. Ouma was beautiful to them, but they knew Ouma couldn't see it in himself. Kiibo was patient, they learned the hard way that he'd have to be patient with Ouma more than others. But they didn't care, it was worth every little bicker, nasty word, and sometimes even fights. They didn't argue much, but everytime they did, it only strengthened their bond together. Weird how that works, but Ouma and Kiibo are just a... Strange couple. 

Year's have passed since Ouma's last attempt, he sworn he'd never do that again. Well ofcourse that was a lie, all it took was for someone to bring a hammer to his porcelain mask and find out the truth to ruin everything. Ouma knew this, but didn't care. He didn't care until it happened. Who knew the one and only detective would be the reason Ouma fell suicidal again? 

"Ouma~Kun please listen to me-! You and Kiibo fight so much... I'm worried that you're in an... Ahem... That type of relationship." Saihara tried to reason, tried to beg, they've been "talking" about Ouma and Kiibos relationship for hours. 

"Saihara~Chan. Shut your mouth. Shut your goddamn mouth. Kiibo is the only person I love, and he loves me. Unlike with you, I feel safe with him. Now, leave me alone. I'm done talking to you." Ouma's blank stare with tired eyes worried Saihara, it was like he was a glass doll trapped away. 

"You're scared, aren't you?" Saihara asked. 

Ouma gave him a nasty look, "Scared? Me? Never! Scared of talking to you, maybe. But Kiibo? No. Now good day, Saihara~Chan." Ouma scoffed, he felt himself shatter. Everything hurt, he got up and walked away from the coffee shop, paying half the bill. He watched as the sunset across his best friend. The bridge. As Ouma stepped closer to the sides of the abandoned bridge, he remembered the rush of joy and happiness falling made him feel. He craved that feeling once again. Ouma took out his phone, his screen was covered in teardrops by the time he was able to send a message; his final message, to Kiibo. 

It read, "Heeey Baabe! I love you, yknow? but I'm done with myself again. hahaa surprise! I know I'm difficult, and that's why you deserve more than what you have. im so done with myself, and I want to stop. for you. but i cant. it's too painful. you can do so much better. you have all my information, so please. get yourself in a better place, like a better home. tell dice I love her too, and that dad isnt coming home. but you'll take care of her, right? :D I know you will. you're amazing like that. aaaanywhoo, you're everything that i had. so please, don't take that away."

He put his phone on the ground next to his platformed shoes, letting the wind blow through his hair in that all-too-familiar feeling, then he took his scarf off. Ouma took out a marker from his pocket, writing "Even Villains Have Struggles" in bright red letters across the top, then he stood back on the ledge. Breathing in the air his lungs would kill for years prior. But now was time. With yelling in the distance, he knew he had to hurry. 1 step... 2 step... 3 step... 4.

**Author's Note:**

> Another collection of Alex's ventfics. I'm glad I got this out, I live near a bridge so I kinda wrote this while listening to water water.... Anyywaaays-- I project onto Ouma alot, as anyone can tell.


End file.
